It’s Friday night and we’re at NYU’s Cooper Square campus, screening the latest batch of High Maintenance episodes on Vimeo. Back in November, creative couple Katja Blichfeld and Ben Sinclair introduced their first cycle of episodes with Vimeo On Demand, and, like a proud parent, the filmmaker-friendly digital platform went all out for their kin. There were hundreds of people in attendance, a pizza truck, and catered goodies. Cast, crew, press, and loyal followers stocked up on beer before heading into a warehouse-sized screening room to watch Blichfeld’s and Sinclair’s latest creation. This time around, fifty people cuddled up to watch the second cycle of High Maintenance‘s new season, followed by a Q&A with the cannabis power couple themselves, who prove, yet again, that even though they have the best show not-on-TV right now, they prefer to keep things as chill as possible, man.

After screening latest episodes, “Sufjan,” “Esme,” and “Sabrina,” Blichfeld and Sinclair took to the stage to chat about what it’s been like to work with Vimeo, the difficulty in the beauty of letting go, and why mushrooms played a part in the final episodes of the season.

“Tone was the thing we were really able to get ahold of,” Sinclair said of their newest stories, which are far more upbeat than the previous three released in November — yet edgier, in a way. The first, “Sufjan,” follows a thirtysomething stoner couple who leave their hip Brooklyn nabe for a place in the quaint and spacious, albeit not-so-hip, Ditmas Park. When adjusting proves more difficult than they anticipated, they blame themselves and their weed usage for not being able to roll with the punches of a new place in a different part of a borough where subcultures change daily.

For creators who are adamant about writing from an opposite stance about what inspires them, Sinclair admitted, “That one was completely autobiographical. There is really nothing in there that we don’t feel or that we haven’t experienced. That was us looking in a mirror [at this couple] and being like, ‘You guys are doing so okay. Why are you complaining so much, what is the problem?” Blichfeld seconded that, but added, “There’s also a sub-theme in there about weed consumption. That episode is an examination of how much is too much. I think that episode reflects our complicated relationship with our marijuana usage.”

The next episode shifts in tone once again over to “Esme,” which chronicles a day in the life of its flighty namesake as she delivers weed for an all-female group (and business rival to The Guy) called the Cannabitches. Intense, abrasive, and comically unprofessional, Esme is the bull in the proverbial China shop of Bushwick as she earns quick cash dealing while working in time to chase her dream of being a dancing percussionist for Stomp. But after an audition gone horribly wrong, Esme storms in on a deal between The Guy and one of his on-and-off clients, played by the whimsical Yael Stone (Orange Is the New Black). “For ‘Esme’ we thought, ‘What is the opposite The Guy would do?’ We always start from the opposite for inspiration. We enjoy stories about unlikable protagonists who are just very misguided in their pursuits,” Sinclair explained.

Since the beginning, High Maintenance has never once felt preachy. There’s never been a moment where the series has felt like a PSA for smoking grass, nor has it drifted into the Cheech and Chong slapstick realm of stoner culture we see inspiring series like Workaholics and Broad City. While the sensationalized I Heart Marijuana-goofiness undeniably works for those shows, High Maintenance is more about interconnectedness within the biggest borough in the most populated city in the country, reiterated by The Guy’s biking in and out of episodes without much of an agenda. And like The Guy, who, to Blichfeld’s and Sinclair’s point, we all wish we could be more like, High Maintenance has always worked so well simply because it has no agenda. It’s about weed, but it’s also not. It’s a Brooklyn series, but these tiny stories often defy location, as pointed out in the final episode, “Sabrina.”

The Guy accompanies his buddy Chad (Chris Roberti) on a weekend getaway outside of the city, where they meet up with a group of well-connected New York-types who want to unwind with some shrooms. Not only is this episode the one we’ve spent the most time with The Guy, but it’s also the introduction of mushrooms to the series. “Mushrooms kind of started to come back in vogue a little bit,” says Sinclair when discussing their inspiration for the final episode. Blichfeld added, “I noticed on Tumblr that there was a lot more imagery of mushrooms and they were entering our circle a lot more frequently, and I was like, ‘I think this is a thing.'” Tactfully scripted so as to let some room for play, Chris Roberti, comedian John Early, and other up-and-coming web presences took to the woods to trip out on shrooms that are only described as “one for fun, two for whoo, three for wee!” Even after being chased off their neighbor’s property, trippy Tinder fails, and a paddleboat adventures, the group’s collective trip was hysterically nuanced and managed to avoid the “whoaaaa, man” stigma of hallucinogens.

When asked what inspired them this season, Blichfeld and Sinclair praised the Duplass brothers’ tenacity as well as Transparentcreator, Jill Soloway. Being the perfectionists they are when it comes to their work, Blichfeld explained, “We keep citing the Duplass Brothers because they’re putting out quality stuff and don’t seem as attached. They’re just churning it out and it’s, like, on to the next thing. We just want to get to that place where we’re not attached to every little minute of content.” Sinclair added, “Transparent feels like our weird cousin on the West Coast. We had the pleasure of meeting Jill Soloway, and they seem to be setting up a similar vibe. It seems like their modus operandi is let the actors give you the great stuff. Don’t get in the way of the actors. They make their set work so they can favor spontaneity.” Perhaps that state of mind is what worked so well for High Maintenance this season — the unfinished scripts, the loose scenes packed with authenticity, and the stunning performances that made us wish there were another six episodes on the way. Until next season, High Maintenance.